Page 3 of Surrendering His Heart (Buena Hills #4)

Christian Gustafson placed his breakfast plate in the sink, ignoring the other dirty dishes underneath. I’ll worry about them later . That had been his motto the last few years. He’d worry about it later. The dishes. The laundry. His life … Everything seemed to be on that list.

Everything except simply surviving.

More than three years had passed since the worst day of his life, and he still barely managed to keep his head above water most of the time.

He stared out the kitchen window, past the back deck, at the trampoline, its black mesh netting blowing in the light breeze.

Right behind it, the morning sun shone on the wooden swing set he’d built for the girls last Christmas.

Pushing out a centering breath, he mentally prepared himself for another day.

Penelope’s giggles broke the quiet, and he turned in time to find his youngest daughter leaning over the side of her booster. She held her hand out, about to drop a bite of chocolate chip pancake into the open mouth of their golden retriever.

Christian let out a strangled groan, hurrying over to remove the food from the three-year-old’s fingers. “Let’s save the pancakes for the humans, Nell. Princess Pumpkin can’t eat chocolate.” He tossed the sticky bite back onto Penelope’s plate, bending to kiss her equally sticky cheek.

“Booberries,” she demanded in her sweet voice, lunging for the bowl just out of reach on the table.

He dished out a small helping. She’d already had seconds, and he didn’t want to think about the state of her pull-up once the berries passed through her.

“Daddy? ”

Christian glanced at his older daughter sitting on the other side of the square table. She’d pushed her empty plate to the side and held a picture book open with her elbow.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

Isla pointed to the bottom of the page. “What’s this word?”

He came around the table to read over her shoulder. “Ghost.”

“Oh yeah. Ghost.” She went back to sounding out the words in a whisper.

Christian reached around her to grab the bottle of syrup and carried it to the fridge before turning back to his daughters. “If you’re finished, I need you to go get dressed. Aunt Dani will be here soon to take you on your special girls’ trip to the park while I’m gone.”

“Park!” Penelope’s whole body shook in anticipation of her favorite place. She strained against the strap holding her hostage in the chair, her wild limbs flinging out, knocking her sippy cup off the table.

And that’s why we still use leak-proof dishes. Mealtime was already messy enough without any spilled milk.

The clatter of plastic on the wooden floor startled the dog, who’d sprawled out on her side near her water bowl. She trotted over to investigate, the tags on her collar tinkling a metallic melody.

“I thought you’d be happy about that. Here, I got it.” Christian rescued the cup from Pumpkin’s interest, then freed his daughter from the constraints of her seat before her frantic movements toppled over the chair. Scooping her into his arms, he peeked over at his oldest child.

Isla’s brown eyes had darkened, and she’d slouched back in her seat. “Why can’t I go with you to your appointment, Daddy?”

“You don’t want to come, sweetie. It’ll be super boring.

You’ll have way more fun at the park with Nellie and Dani.

” He set the bowl of berries on the counter, snapping a lid on the glass container with his free hand before Penelope could help herself to a fistful.

She’d have blueberry juice oozing through her fingers in no time.

Isla’s bottom lip puckered, her brows drawn down in a deep scowl. She played a mean pouting game when she wanted to .

Christian let out a silent sigh. His daughter hadn’t always been anxious about being separated from him. What happened to the young toddler he couldn’t take his eyes off of in public without her wandering away?

Scratch that. He knew exactly what happened. And it killed him that he couldn’t do a thing to change the past. Isla wasn’t the only one who’d been drastically affected the day their family fell apart.

But she’d made great strides since beginning her appointments with the child psychologist—a recommendation from her preschool teacher last year.

Her anxiety still crept up now and again, usually as a result of sudden changes being thrown at her.

Christian tried to be as upfront about their schedule as possible.

When he’d told her of the plan two days ago, she hadn’t seemed too bothered about the prospect of him leaving for a few hours on a Saturday.

What had caused her fears to suddenly reappear?

“But you’ll come back?”

The pleading in her brown eyes sliced through his heart. And stirred up the frustration constantly lingering under the surface of his composure, though not because of her. What were you thinking, Sabrina? Do you even realize what you’ve done to this family?

Probably not. His ex likely didn’t stop for a second to consider the ramifications of walking out on her two daughters—the youngest only a few weeks old—or the fact that she’d left her husband to pick up the pieces.

“I always have,” he said, swallowing his anger. No good would come from dwelling on it. Sabrina wasn’t coming back, and he didn’t want her to. Her selfish choice had shattered their family. No apology would put it back together. “And I always will.”

“Annelise isn’t coming back.” Isla stared at the table while kicking the legs of her chair with her heel. “She left just like my mom.”

There it is. The reason for this sudden relapse into anxiety. The college-student he’d hired three years ago to watch the girls in the afternoons had recently graduated and gone on to greener pastures. They’d said goodbye to her two weeks ago.

He set Penelope down and the child toddled over to Pumpkin, who was lounging in her dog bed by the back door.

Pulling Isla’s chair out from the table, he crouched in front of it, taking a few seconds to consider his words.

She was smart, so smart he often had to remind himself she was still a child, incapable of understanding the motivations of those around her.

“You know Annelise didn’t want to leave, right?” he asked, placing his hands on the base of her chair on either side of her legs. “She went to grad school in a different state. But I know she misses you too.”

Isla’s bottom lip trembled, twisting the dagger of guilt even more into his side. Any moment, she’d add tears, and Christian would really be done for.

What am I supposed to do, Dad?

Dad didn’t answer. He never did, but these one-sided conversations with him had become second nature since the early heart attack that took his life fifteen years ago.

Christian had been twelve, but his sister hadn’t been much older than Isla.

He vaguely remembered watching her experience the same feelings of abandonment his daughter often did.

“Do you still have your heart?” He stroked the tight blonde curl framing her face.

“It washed off.” Isla held her hand up for him to see.

Giving her small fingers a gentle squeeze, he wandered to the junk drawer next to the sink. He dug through it until he found a ballpoint pen, then returned to kneeling in front of her.

“While I’m away,” he said, uncapping the pen and drawing a small black heart on the back of her thumb, “just look at this heart whenever you miss me. Remember how much I love you.” He drew a matching heart in the same place on his right hand before replacing the cap.

“Wait! You forgot the best part.”

“Right. First, we need to seal in the magic.” He pressed a kiss to her heart while holding his up for her to do the same.

“I love you, too, Daddy.”

“I know.” Christian smiled. “Tell you what, as soon as I get home, I’ll take you to the Halloween store to get your costume. Do you still want to be a gymnast?”

She’d been planning her costume since watching the prestigious Global Elite Games over the summer.

McKenzie Bowman, an athlete from Buena Hills had headlined the gymnastics competition, winning multiple gold medals.

A true local hero, and the object of Isla’s fascination for the three months since.

She’d been practicing her flips on the trampoline ever since.

“A zombie gymnast,” she said with finality.

That detail was new, though not surprising. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out. Maybe we can grab some ice cream after?”

Penelope squealed, jumping up from Pumpkin’s dog bed. “Ice cweam!” Her little feet pitter-pattered across the floor as she ran from the room.

Christian shook his head with a chuckle. It never took much to please her. He turned his focus back to Isla.

“Two scoops?” She held up two fingers.

“Two scoops,” he confirmed with a decisive nod.

“And sprinkles?”

He huffed out an overdramatic sigh. “And sprinkles.”

“How about gummy bears?”

“Gummy bears?” His voice rose a few notches in pitch.

This ice cream date would lead to a major sugar rush if he wasn’t careful. It’s my own fault. No one could accuse him of being above bribing his kids.

“You drive a hard bargain, little lady.” His horrible attempt at a country accent made Isla giggle. “Fine, you can have gummy bears.”

That brought a smile to his daughter’s face. “Okay, I’ll go to the park. Can I bring a book?”

“Sure. Go get dressed.”

As Isla left the kitchen, Christian ran a hand down his face, the day-old stubble on his jaw scratching at his palm.

That could’ve gone a lot worse. He constantly walked a fine line with her.

She resembled that superhero baby in The Incredibles .

One moment, sweet and cooperative. The next, she’d burst into flames.

Not real flames, obviously. But still just as hot.

Luckily, he’d navigated through this difficulty without getting torched.

Within an hour, Christian found himself twisted in an unnatural angle, his cheek flattened against the plush fibers of the pink shag rug on Penelope’s floor.